


Irony is Best Served Cold

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alcohol, Biting, Blow Jobs, Crack Treated Seriously, Cunnilingus, Episode: s03e16 Blood Fever, Mild Blood, Mild Kink, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Pon Farr, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcans and Chocolate, but only in the setup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 15:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: After Blood Fever, B’Elanna and Vorik discover that they’re technically married. Tom Paris attempts to intervene. Threesome ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters one and three are T at most. The porn is in chapter two, so you can skip to/over it as you desire. 
> 
> Inspired by this tumblr post:  
> http://flamingbluepanda.tumblr.com/post/171596759930/i-think-the-best-thing-about-amok-time-is-that-it/amp

“And that should be the last of it,” said Janeway.

“Excellent,” said Vi’nek Tamar, the Prime Barrister of the planet Nomis III. Voyager had recently made contact with them, and asked if they would be willing to trade for deuterium and other supplies. Much to Janeway’s surprise, they had been more than happy to comply in exchange for nothing but the ship’s entire library of legal documents.

“You’re sure there’s nothing else you want?” asked Janeway, despite strictly telling herself not to.

“We ask only that you allow us to make clarifying queries while you are still in orbit,” said Vi’nek.

“Of course,” said Janeway. “Of course, none of my crew are legal experts, but we will certainly answer to the best of my ability.”

“I am especially interested in the concept of ‘marriage’,” said Vi’nek. “We do not seem to have a comparable legal term, and the concept fascinates me. Would you mind explaining further?”

Janeway opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it to consider. She glanced around the bridge to see if anyone looked like they had an easy answer ready. She caught Chakotay’s eye, but his brow furrowed, and he gave a minute shrug.

“Well,” she said. “It’s a kind of contract, defining a relationship...generally assumed to be sexual, and often involving offspring.”

“But neither of those is a necessary component?”

“Technically no.”

“Technicality is technology, captain! Surely your people must know that. Ah well. I have several definitions and a number of examples to work through still. Tell me, captain, are _you_ married?”

A pang went through Janeway’s heart. “I was going to be,” she said, “but no. I’m not.”

“Are any of your crew?”

“Certainly,” said Janeway, glancing around the bridge to refresh her memory. Chakotay, Paris, B’Elanna, Kim… “Tuvok,” she said, “You’ve been married for...what, fifty years now?”

“Sixty-seven.”

“Excellent,” said Vi’nek, brightening. “Perhaps you can give insight into the process.”

“I shall attempt it. However, Vulcan marriage practices differ significantly from those of the federation at large.

“I see, I see….” said Vi’nek, furiously tapping at a PADD-like device. “I believe that was the...yes...the koon-ut kal-if-fee?”

There was a slight clatter from updeck. Janeway glanced up to see that B’Elanna had dropped her PADD.

And then, belatedly, Janeway remembered that just last week, B’Elanna had found herself involved in a Vulcan marriage drama, complete with life-and-death stakes.

“And a challenge to the death! Simply incredible. But tell me, what happens if the fight is a draw?”

Tuvok was silent for a moment. “That...generally does not happen.”

“Surely the exception to the rule has come up in the past! The edge cases are always the most important, surely you must know that.”

Tuvok was silent for and even longer moment, to the point where Janeway frowned and glanced back.

“In...the few recorded cases where neither combatant is slain, they have been deemed married to each other.”

“—WHAT?”

Janeway halfway out of her seat and in combat mode before she realized that the roar had come from her chief engineer.

B’Elanna stormed across the bridge, ignoring the alien diplomat still on the screen, and slammed her fists down on Tuvok’s console.

“Do you mean to say that, because I let that petaQ _live_ , I am now _married to him_ , which is _what I was trying to avoid in the first place_ , and you thought you just _wouldn’t mention it to me?”_

“It did not seem prudent.”

“I’ll show you _prudent_ you insufferable targ fart!”

“Simply fascinating!” said Vi’nek from the screen. “So it is possible to be married and not even know it?”

“Apparently,” spat B’Elanna.

“It’s not quite so simple,” broke in Janeway.  “As lieutenant Torres is not a Vulcan citizen—”

“Vulcan law makes no such distinction though!” said Vi’nek enthusiastically. “I checked!”

“Well then you had _better_ double-check Vulcan divorce law, because I am _not_ staying married to him!”

“The most straightforward way is the one you already tried,” said Tuvok. “A challenge to the death.”

“I should have killed the petaQ,” muttered B’Elanna.

“Alternately, the families of those involved may declare the the match invalid.”

“Oh, wonderful. I’ll get my dad, who I haven’t seen since I was five, and my mom, who I haven’t seen in over a decade, to talk to Vorik’s parents, who are all by the way all _seventy-five years away!”_

Vi’nek was furiously scribbling notes.

Janeway took a deep breath, sighed it out again, and hit her combadge. “Lieutenant Vorik, you are needed to the bridge.”  

There was a slight pause. “Aye, Captain,” he said, without requesting clarification.

“B’Elanna, I must make one request,” she said.

“ _What!”_

“Don’t kill him.”

* * *

By the time Vorik had gotten there, Vi’nek had been filled in on most of the details of what has transpired...though leaving out the slight detail of it being a matter of “mate or die”.

“I see, I see…” said Vi’nek, still taking occasional notes. “So she _did_ accept the declaration of challenge.”

“Well….technically yes,” muttered B’Elanna.

“Technicalities are technology,” said Vi’nek brightly.

“I...am not sure I understand,” said Vorik carefully.

“Neither do I, _husband,”_ B’Elanna spat.

“....I see,”

“So you _did_ know?!” said B’Elanna through her teeth.

Vorik froze before speaking carefully. “I...did not believe you would be willing to accept Vulcan legal precedent.”

“Does that mean you want to get divorced?” said Vi’nek brightly. “Can I watch?”

“How, exactly?  Unless you’re suggesting I kill him now.”

“I would prefer you did not.”

“What if,” broke in Lieutenant Paris, “and I’m spitballing here, someone _else_ declared a challenge for your hand?”

“I am _not_ a prize to be won.”

“No, I mean, then surely regular federation divorce law would be applicable.”

“Even assuming that that person were to win,” said Vorik, “which is not a safe assumption, I would still end up dead in this scenario, which I would still prefer to avoid.”

“Maybe the doctor could revive the loser?”

“Are you willing to risk that?”

“Are _you?”_

 _“_ STILL NOT A PRIZE!”

“It _does_ seem to be a feasible workaround,” said Vi’nek, still scrolling furiously on the PADD-like device.

“Unless I win,” said Vorik.

“You two sure don’t seem to need my input.”

“Well,” said Tom. “If we _do_ try this, worst case is that you’re still accidentally married, right? Do you have a better idea?”

B’Elanna crossed her arms and glared. “....no.”

* * *

In the end, no one else could think of anything better either, other than quietly agreeing to ignore the whole incident. But Vi’nek was insistent upon witnessing a divorce, and since they hadn’t traded much of value, it seemed prudent to allow it.

The doctor, on the other hand, was _not_ happy with the decision.

“You think I’m just here to patch up your bad decisions!” he said. “When you could, instead, _show some common sense!”_

But instead of showing the doctor’s desired common sense, the combatants showed up at holodeck one with Vulcan lirpas coated with a coronary poison.

“At first blood, you gave to _stop,”_ instructed the Doctor. “Technically, your opponent will die. Legally. But you don’t have to make my job harder than it already is!”

“Ok,” said Paris, looking down at the weapon he had never seen before in his life. “So are we supposed to bow, or…”

“No,” said Vorik, and attacked.

“WHOA NELLY,” said Paris, somehow managing to block the blow. “I didn’t hear anyone say ‘start’!”

Despite his objection, he swung the blunt ent of  the lirpa up and hit Vorik in the side, slowing him a few steps. Vorik barely slowed, and swung the sharp end at Paris.

“NOPE,” said Paris, swinging both ends in quick succession.

Both ends missed Vorik, who gave a cry in response.

“This is absolutely _fascinating,_ said the all too present Vi’nek. “Is this usually how it goes?”

“No,” said Janeway. “At least, not outside Vulcan ritual.”

“I see, I see,” said Vi’nek, jotting down a few more notes. “Perhaps you could demonstrate a different style of marriage later on…”

Janeway glanced at Tom, who was furiously swinging his rather unwieldy weapon while dancing backwards, and then to B’Elanna, who was studiously not looking worried.

“If so I’ll be sure to invite you.”

Abruptly, the ship shuddered. “Chakotay to Janeway!” said the ship’s communications system. “We’ve got company!”

* * *

“Oh dear,” said Vi’nek as they entered the bridge. “Oh, oh dear.”

“You know something about this?” demanded Janeway.

“The Legrens,” said Vi’nek. “They….shall we say...had minor objections to the placement of a comma in our dealings with them.”

Janeway took a moment to stare into the middle distance and gather strength from the wall.

“Janeway to attacking vessel.”

The view screen lit up. “We want the Prime Barrister!”

“Perhaps we can offer our services as neutral mediators?”

* * *

It took three days of research and a failed law student who’d turned to the Maquis, but they finally found a loophole that both the Nomians and the Legrens agreed to abide by in their dispute.

“Well, glad THAT’S settled!” said the irrepressible Vi’nek. “I must thank you again, captain, for all you’ve done. But now that there aren’t more urgent matters distracting our attention, I can finally ask…how are the newlyweds?”

Janeway frowned. “B’Elanna and Vorik?”

“No no, of course not. Vorik and Tom Paris, of course!”

“...what?”

“Well, they both survived the challenge, did they not?”

Janeway froze, glanced over at an equally wide-eyed Chakotay, and the turned towards the tactical station. “Tuvok…?”

“It appears they did.”

“So unless I completely misunderstand Vulcan legal precedent, this means they are also married, correct?”

“I….would have to research precedent involving interruptions—”

“There aren’t any! I checked.”

“Wait,” said Paris finally. “....what?”

* * *

 

Ensign Vorik didn’t get summoned to the bridge often. Twice in one week was unheard of.

And Lieutenant Torres was being summoned at the same time.

Vorik sighed internally and wished he’d just let the pon farr kill him instead.

The turbolift ride up to the bridge was objectively longer than usual, he was fairly sure, but at least counting seconds was better than making eye contact. Wasn’t it?

Letting out a long breath, Vorik threw caution to the wind.

“Lieutenant?”

“What.”

“I have never offered an apology for my actions when I was...not myself.  I assaulted you, and for that I apologize.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“We were fighting. I can’t call that assault.”

“I refer to attempting to bond with you against your will. You never should have been drawn in to my...problem in the first place.”

“Ah.”  There was an even longer silence, and Vorik wondered if he was counting the seconds to his own demise.

B’Elanna suddenly snort-laughed. “Look,” she said. “I felt it too. I did things I would’ve have. It’s not _okay_ , but I’m willing to chalk it up to an accident.” Her eyes shot phasers at him. “As long as nothing like it ever happens again.”

Vorik couldn’t stop himself from swallowing. “Perhaps they have discovered a loophole that will allow a somewhat simpler manner of divorce.”

The turbolift doors opened and the entire bridge crew turned to look at them.

“...you sure about that?” muttered B’Elanna.

“Oh, excellent!” said Vi’nek happily.

Vorik’s stomach sank. “May I ask _what_ is excellent?”

“Why, your second marriage, of course!”

Vorik blinked precisely three times.

Paris hesitantly raised his hand and waved. “Hi husband.”

After a 1.7 second beat of silence, B’Elanna laughed.

She laughed, stopped to cough until she could breathe again, and laughed again until she was wiping tears from her eyes and gasping for air.

“Irony, apparently, is _also_ a dish best served cold,” she finally choked out. “How’s it look like from _this_ side, oh husband of my husband?”

Tom tugged at his collar. “Well,” he said. “It’s not quite how I imagined the big day, but I could still go for some wedding cake.”

* * *

 Neelix was more than happy to oblige, whipping up a three-layer cake with two grooms, a bride, and a scale-model lirpa.

“I was more than happy to look up wedding celebrations!” said Neelix. “But most of what I found was based on various human traditions.”

“I was having that problem too!” said Vi’nek.

“But the Doctor _did_ tell me that a broken clavicle on the wedding night is considered good luck among Klingons! So tell me B’Elanna, are you planning on sending anyone to sickbay tonight?”

B’Elanna choked on air.

“I’m still not sure I understand the significance of the ‘wedding _night’,”_ said Vi’nek.

“Oh! Well you see…” started Neelix.

“MAN THAT CAKE LOOKS GOOD,” said Tom. “LET’S CUT IT RIGHT NOW.”

Cutting the cake revealed two layers of brown and one of white.

“Chocolate for a wedding cake?” said Tom in slight surprise.

“I read that grooms traditionally had chocolate cake in your part of earth, and there are two grooms, after all!”

“I guess that’s...logical,” said Tom.

“I prefer _chocolate,_ ” said B’Elanna.

“Oh uh….then chocolate you shall have!” said Neelix. “And for you, Mr. Engineer Vulcan?”

Vorik eyed the options and gave a small sigh. “Chocolate.”

“I’m more of a vanilla guy,” said Tom. “In the...uh...bakery.  Not, like…” He paused and looked around frantically. “I’ll take vanilla and also a double shot of whiskey.”

B’Elanna _looked_ at him.

“What I wouldn’t give for some _real_ Romulan Ale,” she muttered. “But I’ll take a scotch.”

“Well, open bar _is_ a wedding tradition!” said Neelix. “Anything for you, Mr. Engineer Vulcan?”

“I have already chosen my intoxicant of choice,” said Vorik. “May I have another slice of chocolate?”

* * *

B’Elanna found is difficult to sip her drink with her arms crossed, but not so difficult that she was willing to uncross them.

She angled towards one side of the room, and then realized she was walking in on an animated discussion between Neelix and Vi’nek and the origins and customs of the wedding night, and turned on her heel before she could be asked again whether she was going to be breaking any clavicles. Which, at this rate, she MIGHT. Just not amorously. Not entirely amorously.

B’Elanna tipped back another swallow of scotch and let the burn silence the growl forming in the back of her throat. She had _not_ signed up for this, dammit!

“So, _husband_ , what do you think of this arrangement?” said Tom from over to her right.

B’Elanna glanced over in time to see Vorik take another large bite of chocolate. “It is...unexpected, but, technically, not illogical.”

Paris’s eyebrows met his hairline. “Nothing about this seems illogical to you?”

“It was logical for me to take a mate,” said Vorik, swaying ever so slightly. “Two is...excessive, but not illogical.”

“Hmm, I suppose that makes sense,” said Tom. “So tell me. How does your species express affection? Or do you just…wait seven years and…”

“The ozh-esta,” interrupted Vorik, “is the most popular.”

“The what-what?”

“You might call it a ‘finger kiss’,” said Vorik, and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Though I do of course understand that this is primarily a method of essentially trading with the Nomians and that we shall most likely elect to ignore it after—”

Tom put a finger to Vorik’s lips. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with it now,” he said.

Vorik’s cheeks turned a rather verdant shade of green. Reaching up with two of his own fingers, he stroked the one on his lips.

“Oh,” said Tom. “That’s….huh.” He paused, and took a swig of whiskey with his free hand.

Vorik pulled away. “You are drunk,” he observed.

Paris scoffed. “So are _you,”_ he said. “Wanna ignore that and do some things we might regret in the morning?”

“Without inviting me?” said B’Elanna before she realized she was saying anything at all.

Both men looked up at her.

B’Elanna shrugged without uncrossing her arms and then downed the last of her drink in a too-big gulp before adding, “Depending on how you feel about biting.”

The other two looked at her some more, and then at each other. Tom rubbed his cheek.

“I mean—” said Tom.

“I’m in favor,” said Vorik and then downed his last bite of chocolate.

B’Elanna’s eyebrows rose despite herself. Vorik’s cheeks greened and he turned to find somewhere to put his plate.  

“ _Well,”_ said Tom. “Whose quarters?”


	2. Chapter Two: The Pornening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The porn part

“Does anyone else feel like this is a terrible idea?” said B’Elanna.

“Oh yes,” said Tom, stripping off his undershirt. “But I’m also not gonna be the one to back out.”

B’Elanna snorted. “Used to making bad decisions?

“Yup. But at least  _ this _ tryst won’t get me accused of murder...I think.”

“Unlikely,” said Vorik, stripping his uniform down to the ankles. 

B’Elanna licked her lips and undid the top half of her uniform. 

Tom stopped and looked at her. “You know you don’t have to, right?”

“And back out when you don’t?”

“I mean, I’m sure me and hubby would do just fine.”

Vorik colored again. 

B’Elanna licked her lips, and then did it again. “I don’t think so.” She yanked down her uniform and pulled off the undershirt. 

Vorik neatly folded his uniform and set it aside. Tom pulled his down and kicked it into a corner before eyeing the bunk. “This is gonna be  _ real  _ cozy,” he said. 

B’Elanna took a deep breath and pulled off the rest of her uniform and her bra. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Tom eyes her breasts. “I mean it’s….I forgot what you just said.”

B’Elanna looked at him and then grinned in spite of herself. “And what about you,  _ husband? _ ” she said. “Gonna forget everything when you see these?” She grabbed her own breasts. 

Vorik looked at them. “Vulcans are gifted with excellent memories,” he said. 

“I love how that’s technically not an answer,” said B’Elanna, finally pulling off the rest of her clothes and standing there naked. “I can’t decide—are you just more into hands, or are you waiting for me to bite you?”

Tom’s eyes widened and he bit his lip. 

“...I would not say either of those are incorrect,” said Vorik. 

“ _ Really,”  _ said B’Elanna, stepping closer. “So you wouldn’t mind if I...just…”

He didn’t move, but his breath caught in the back of his throat. B’Elanna licked her lips one more time, took the last half-step forward, and bit him hard on the shoulder.

Green blood welled up under her teeth and she she tasted the coppery salt under her tongue. 

She pulled away, Klingon elation overwhelming human guilt, and licked the blood off her lips. 

Tom’s hand was at his neck, as though trying to let heat out at an invisible collar. But instead, the red coloring extended from his collarbones to his ears. 

Vorik’s eyes were closed and his head was slightly tilted back. 

“There’s a reason you chose me, huh?” said B’Elanna. “You like this a little too much.”

“I could...reciprocate.”

“Oh really?” said B’Elanna, baring her teeth. 

“I’d complain about being left out,” said Tom, “but please, let me watch.”

Vorik brought his arms up to a not-quite fighting stance, fingers clawed, and then shot forward and grabbed both of B’Elanna’s upper arms and dug his teeth into the skin of her neck. 

B’Elanna threw herself forward and tackled him under her to the floor. 

They struggled for a few moments, rolling and then rolling back, ending with B’Elanna on top and two colors of blood dripping down their shoulders. 

“You weren’t technically wrong,” muttered B’Elanna. 

Vorik just inhaled through his nose. 

Tom coughed and tried to inhale again. “Wow,” he said.  “I….wow.”

B’Elanna pulled herself up off Vorik on the ground. “Is that a challenge?”

Tom swallowed twice and looked at the green blood welling from Vorik’s shoulder. “Maybe…go a little easy on me for starters?”

“Like this?” said B’Elanna, and bit him on the cheek, leaving a mark but not drawing blood. 

Tom inhaled through his nose and his eyes dilated. 

“I’m guessing that’s a yes,” said B’Elanna, pulling away. 

“It’s definitely not a no.”

B’Elanna hmm’d in satisfaction. 

“So like…” said Tom. “...seeing as how you’re a fan of teeth, what about lips? Maybe a little tongue?” He stepped towards her and ran his fingers down her arm. 

B’Elanna grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss. 

Vorik, meanwhile, picked himself up off the floor and instead sat watching them in undisguised interest. 

When the other two pulled away breathlessly, he quietly muttered “Fascinating.”

“Oh really?” said Tom. “Not something you have much experience with?”

“As I said, Vulcans ‘kiss’, so to speak, with our hands. Though I would not necessarily be opposed to...experimentation.”

“Neither would I, when it comes to it,” said Tom. “Say, wanna show me more of that finger-kissing? It was...kinda nice earlier.”

Vorik stood up without using his hands, and held out his right with two fingers out and two folded back. “Generally like this.”

Tom imitated the gesture and held out his hand. Vorik ran his fingers down Tom’s and then up the other side. Tom let out a surprised breath. “How does that even...feel so...uhh,” he finished eloquently. 

“Vulcans are touch telepaths,” said Vorik without slowing his touch. “While not as sensitive as meld points, finger contact allows me to...project certain sensations.”

B’Elanna’s eyes widened and she squinted ridiculously to counteract it. 

“Oh-ooh, I see,” said Tom. “That’s uh...I would reciprocate, but…”

“I can sense your….sensations...without you consciously projecting them.”

Tom’s ears turned red again and he glanced down. “Uh, yeah….sensations.”

B’Elanna crossed her legs, but it didn’t help. 

“How have  _ you _ not popped a boner yet?” complained Tom. 

“Vulcan biocontrols.”

“Not fair.”

Vorik’s eyebrow raised, and then so did his penis. 

“That’s more like it. Also, that’s...greener than I expected.”

“What would you—”

B’Elanna stormed between them, grabbed them both by the arms, and threw them in the general direction of the bunk. “Are we doing this or  _ not?” _

“I’m...uh...who wants to go where?” said Tom. 

B’Elanna grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down on the bunk. “You’re going  _ here _ ,” she said, and then climbed on top, straddling his calves. “I’m going  _ here, _ and  _ you,”  _ she said, pointing at Vorik, “are going  _ there.”  _ She pointed to what was left of the bunk behind her. 

Vorik obediently climbed on the bunk, kneeling over Tom’s ankles. B’Elanna glared at him. “And don’t you  _ dare _ be gentle.”

Tom looked around slightly frantically, but his pupils were dilated almost completely. “Ok, but how exactly—”

B’Elanna ran her nails over the bones of his hips. “Like this.” She bent down, breasts brushing against his thighs, and sucked him into her mouth. 

“OH LIKE THAT THEN,” said Tom, gripping the sheets. 

B’Elanna clawed her nails together against his hip, and then reached up to in his hands against the mattress by his sides.

“I see,” said Vorik, eyeing the view in front of him. “This seems a reasonable arrangement.” Carefully, he took his greenish erection and entered B’Elanna from behind. 

B’Elanna lifted her head for a moment. “I  _ said  _ don’t be gentle!”

Vorik pulled his hips back and shoved forward, rocking the whole bed. 

“ _ Better.”   _ B’Elanna nodded sharply and then returned to the task in front of her. 

Vorik rocked the bed again while B’Elanna sucked and Tom made various noises in his throat. 

“I...oh...oh my GOD,” gasped Tom as B’Elanna did something unexpected with her tongue. “I’m definitely gonna...GOD FUCK!”

His hips shot up as he came, smacking B’Elanna in the face. 

B’Elanna swallowed and pulled away, grinning while she brushed her hair away from her face and rubbing at the hipbone mark over her eye. “Had your fun so soon?” she said. “Good. Now you can make yourself useful.”

“Just say the word,” said Tom breathlessly. 

“I do say,” said B’Elanna. “Turn around. Head towards me.” She raised herself up to kneeling to give him room. 

“Shall I….” started Vorik.

“ _ You _ shall stay precisely where you are.”

“Very well.”

Tom rolled and scooted until his feet were at the head of the bed and his head was between B’Elanna’s thighs. 

Tom looked up in awe. “Well  _ this  _ is a privilege I never thought I’d get.”

“Then you’d better make the most of it,” said B’Elanna roughly. 

“I fully intend to.”

B’Elanna lowered herself down, grabbing Vorik by the hip and pulling him with her. Tom eagerly buried his face in her. 

Vorik frowned. “Are you not worried about his breathing?”

“I’m sure he’ll...manage just…fine,” said B’Elanna. 

“I see.”  Vorik adjusted his knees and then thrust forward sharply. 

B’Elanna gave a choked cry. 

“Don’t...either of you... _ dare _ stop.”

“If you say so,” said Vorik, and proceeded to settle into a steady rhythm of shaking the bed. 

B’Elanna clawed at the sheets and made faces that weren’t quite sounds. 

Finally, when one thrust hit just right, she found her voice again and came to the sound of sheets ripping under her fingers. 

Vorik shuddered and let himself come as well, bringing their hips together with one last thrust before sliding out and sitting on the edge of the bunk. 

B’Elanna rolled the other way to let Tom breathe, and Tom slowly sat up. 

“Well,” said Tom wiping his face. “I suppose I might regret that in the morning, but  _ god  _ I hope not.”


	3. Loose ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the loose ends

By the time B’Elanna worked up the nerve to go to sickbay the next morning, the spot here Tom’s hipbone had hit her had darkened into a sizeable black eye.

“Drop a spanner on your head?” asked the Doctor.

B’Elanna gritted her teeth. “Not here for that,” she muttered.

“Oh? Well, that’s up to you I suppose, but it looks rather painful. What are you here for then?”

“Complete STI workup and birth control hypo,” said B’Elanna.

There was a beat just a hair longer than was professional.

“Of course,” said the Doctor. “For what species?”

“Is that _relevant_?”

“Well, it does narrow down the testing range.”

B’Elanna bit back a growl. “Human…” she said.

“Mmhmm,” said the Doctor, running the medical tricorder over her.

“...and Vulcan.”

The Doctor paused. “Should I be expecting any broken clavicles?”

“ _No_.”

“Just checking.”

“If you had one, I assure you it wouldn’t be into me piece anymore.”

“...are you threatening me or propositioning me?”

B’Elanna bared her teeth at him, so he held up a hand in surrender and then grabbed the nearest hypo and loaded it. “This should prevent either human or Vulcan pregnancy. According to the scan, that’s all you need.”

“ _Thank_ you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything about your eye? I mean, if you want to answer questions about it all day…”

B’Elanna hesitated.

Before she could answer, the sickbay door swished open and Tom came through.

“Hey Doc—oh, uh, hi B’Elanna.” He looked at her head and winced. “Did I, uh….ouch.”

The Doctor glanced between them. “And you’re here for…”

“STI scan,” said Tom cheerfully.

“...I’d ask what species, but I think I can guess.”

“Probably,” said Tom.

But before the Doctor could perform his scan, the commsystem beeped. “Lieutenant Torres, Lieutenant Paris, and Ensign Vorik to the bridge.”

“Sorry Doc, duty calls.”

“As long as you come back later.”

“Will do!” said Tom, still too cheerfully. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The turbolift ride to the bridge was once again far too long.

Tom took a too-deep breath and sighed.

“Do you regret it?” he said.

B’Elanna took a long moment before speaking. “Do _you_?”

“No,” said Tom simply. “Not unless you do. I would only regret being part of something you weren’t completely on board with.”

B’Elanna inhaled through her nose. “I want to. It would be easier. But I don’t.”

The bridge doors swished open.

Janeway turned to glance at them. “Ah, here they are,” she said.

B’Elanna stepped off the lift, followed by Tom, and saw that Vorik had beaten them both there.

“Excellent news!” said Vi’nek, who was once again greeting them from the screen. “It seems we were looking for the wrong loopholes. Rather than divorce, we should have been looking at annulment!”

“Well that’s good news,” said B’Elanna. “So tell us: how do we get these things annulled?”

“Quite simple!” said Vi’nek. “By an old Federation ruling, any union can be annulled that all involved parties declare has not been consummated!”

B’Elanna opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Inhaled.

And glanced from Tom to Vorik.

Who glanced from her to each  other.

“Vulcans do not lie,” said Vorik finally.

“Not even to avoid incredibly awkward admissions?” said Tom.

There were a few beats of silence.

“So...you…” said Chakotay.

“Well,” said Vi’nek after a moment, “there’s still Vorik and B’Elanna!”

B’Elanna simply growled.

There were three and a half beats of total silence on the bridge.

“Why this is simply _fascinating_!” said Vi’nek.

“I guess it would be,” said Tom. “But it could be better.”

He turned toward B’Elanna and dropped to one knee. “I don’t have a ring,” he said, “or a Vulcan deathmatch proposition, but….will you marry me?”

B’Elanna glared at him. “You just want to make this mess symmetrical.”

“And there’s no one I’d rather make it symmetrical with.”

B’Elanna snorted. “The worst part is, I believe you.”  She reached out and took his hand, pulling him up. “Yeah. I will.”

On the screen, Vi’nek was having a paroxysm of joy.  “Oh my, oh _very_ my. May I attend the festivities? _Please_?”

Tom glanced at B’Elanna, who shrugged, and then over at Vorik, and extended his hand. “What do you think, husband?”

Vorik hesitated, and then cautiously stepped into the circle and took Tom’s hand. “I am in favor.”

B’Elanna took a deep breath and then took Vorik’s other hand and threw caution to the wind.

“Let’s do it.”

  



End file.
